Wandering Child
by dancechica
Summary: What would have happened if Raoul hadn't showed up during Wandering Child? This story is just one idea. Reviews are welcome, but please be kind!
1. Angel or friend?

**Wandering Child**

Chapter One

Christine walked slowly towards the mausoleum. The wind pierced through her body, the coldness forcing all the hairs on her body to stand on edge. Yet her father's grave, a place barren of life, looked so inviting. So comforting and soothing. A warm supple light was released from the tomb, and slowly the gates began to open.

"……_Have you forgetten your Angel?"_

Had she? Christine didn't know to whom or what she was being drawn to. All she knew was the death of her father had taken its last toll on her. She wanted to be protected and guided by what was enticing her through beautiful sounds behind the gates. She began to ascend the steps, each one bringing her closer to euphoria. She and the voice she heard sang together in a glorious harmony. They sang of confusion, protection, and betrayal.

Christine entered the mausoleum. Suddenly the warm light was erased. The gates were abruptly clamped shut, and Christine was left standing breathless in the dark.

Erik gazed upon Christine. He hated doing this. He hated pretending that once again he was the Angel sent from Gustaave Daae to his daughter. He knew it was a lie. He knew it was a mere coincidence that he loved Christine so and was poisoned by a voice of the god's. He had tried to make Christine understand he was a man desperately in love. He had seduced her down into the dark hell in which he thrived. And he thought she seemed to understand his feelings and connections towards her. He presented her with the figure that haunted him everyday, the figure of her as his bride.

"This", he had thought, "This will show her how I truly feel. I am not only someone to teach her and guide her. I am someone who loves her as a husband loves a wife, not as a teacher loves a pupil!"

Alas, Christine was still a child and could not comprehend the information with which she was being presented. The next morning, she had deliberately disobeyed him, by tearing away the one solace in his life, his mask. This action convinced Erik further of Christine's childish ways, and he scolded her as a father would a daughter. After that morning, communication ceased to exist between the two, except for a brief encounter at the Masked Ball, when he discovered she had been secretly engaged to that boy; that poor excuse of a man. He thought he had lost her forever.

But this was his second chance. He knew that as of now, Christine could only love him as her Angel, her father's spirit. Although he hated only being thought of as a spirit or ghost, by Christine, he realized it was the only card he had to play. All he needed was time. And the only way he would get it with her, was if he were to take her now, during her most vulnerable state. And so tossing his pride aside, he revealed himself to his beloved.

"Christine", he spoke in a command, although in a whisper.

Christine quickly turned around at the sound of the voice from heaven, and felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. Who was this man?

Erik heard her begin to whimper.

"Christine," he said again, this time more gently.

"Who are you?", Christine asked, speaking to the beautiful darkness.

"You know who I am, my child."

"No, I don't!", shrieked Christine. It took Erik by surprise. He was about to speak again, when Christine's heart began to pour out, to anyone or anything that would listen.

"I don't know anything anymore! I don't know why I can't forget about my father, and move on with my life! I don't know why I can't open myself up to Raoul! I don't know why I can't make myself fall in love with his voice, as I do yours. Oh, God! How much simpler my life would be if I could!"

Erik stepped up to Christine, expecting to comfort her. Instead, she began tearing at him with her weak fists. He stood as he was, receiving each blow, thankful Christine was touching him, even if it were under frustration.

"And you……you….you….you faceless Angel", yelp Christine, as she ran he fists into his strong stomach and chest, "who haunts me as a living man! You confuse me most of all….I don't know what to make of you anymore…. I don't know….I don't…I…I…."

Christine's voice began to trail off and she melted into Erik's chest. She didn't know who she was melting into, all she knew is that this was the first time she felt comfort in a long while. She pressed her tear streaked face into the silken vest he wore.

Erik, wrapped his masculine yet soothing arms around her fragile and frustrated body, relieved that she had grown tired of attempting to figure out who he was in relation to her. He could not even answer this question for himself. She began to sink to the ground in agony, and he guided her, and held her as she sobbed into his chest. He loved the experience of holding her, comforting her. With one hand he gently held her face, cupping her left check, and with the other he lovingly ran his fingers through her chestnut spiraled hair.

"Ssshhh…", he calmed, "I know, I know." He held reassuringly, as if she were a lost child, whose parent has finally found them. "I know you are very confused right now. Everything is going to be alright."

As he spoke to her, staring into her dazed and impressionable eyes, he longed to kiss her tears away. To let her know that he was who she was meant to be with, and she was causing herself unnecessary grief. He forced himself to look away from her, and pressed her face into his body. Right now, he knew he must be the comforting mentor she needed.

"Your Angel's here. I'm never going to leave you, Christine."

Christine, still crying in hysteria, forced herself to believe the words this figure was saying to her. For the sake of her own sanity, she forced herself to just believe. And with that thought relishing in her mind, she lost all sense of consciousness, and collapsed adoringly into her Angel's arms.


	2. New Plans

Chapter Two

Erik felt the entirety of Christine's weight against him. As her tears silenced, he realized she had passed out. He lifted her head up and stared at her beautiful disaster of a face. Her tears had formed white streaks, and her eyes were puffy. Still, she was a pristine sight, and Erik wiped the tears away. Lovingly, he kissed her check. Holding his lips on her skin, he closed his eyes and savored the salty taste that had remained on her angelic face. Then, in a swift motion he lifted her up, and walked her through the grave yard, to the carriage he had recently "borrowed". He gently placed her in the back seat, taking care not to rip her dress. He untied the cloak from his shoulders, and lightly wrapped it around her shivering body.

He wondered where he should take her. Back to the dormitories, where Madame Giry could assist her? He knew, if he brought her there, her damned fiancé would come rushing to the bedside of his beloved, casting his wicked spell over her once again. He, with his perfect world and perfectly convenient lies. Erik felt his blood begin to boil as he imagined the boy, touching Christine, loving her, trying to undo everything he had worked so hard to create.

He couldn't allow that to happen. He would take her back to his home, his sanctuary. There he could nurse her himself, without having to worry about the Vicomte. However, he knew that if he brought Christine into his lair, he could never allow her to leave. He feared for his sanity at the thought of losing his Angel again. He wanted to be able to write glorious music for her to sing for him. The voice she attained needed to stay in his life. He needed her to stay with him, so he could slowly reveal to her his true feelings of love, lust and desire. He had learned the hard way that this was not something to spring on the child lightly. He further knew that after she gets well and composes herself, she will be less than thrilled with his plans for her living arrangements. It would be difficult for him to resist her pleas of freedom, but it was absolutely necessary. She would come to understand this in time.

Stepping up, into the carriage, he starred straight ahead, knowing if he was going to do this, there was no going back. If he wasn't prepared, then he should immediately return her to the Opera, and leave her life forever. With just one look back at his love, he knew that would be an impossible task. He would take her back to his home, nurse her, love her, and be strict with her, no matter how much she resisted. In time, she would grow to love him as he does her. She would thank him for saving her, and live to be his obedient wife.

Smiling to himself, at the thought of Christine eventually becoming his wife, he drove off into the morning mists, guiding him and his unknowing beloved into their future together.


	3. For the Rest of Your Life

Chapter Three

Christine woke up, feeling if possible, worse than she did while at her father's grave. Her head was pounding in her head, bursting with not only physical pain, but the same questions that had been echoing in her mind, the same ones she screamed in the mausoleum. Slowly her eyes came into focus, and she realized she was in her bed. But not her bed in the dormitories, her bed in her teacher's home. She rubbed the red satin sheets between her fingers. The room was exactly as she had remembered, fill with exquisite pieces of furniture, all made of deep cherry wood. She was still in her navy blue dress she had worn the day before.

As she was becoming reacquainted with her surroundings, she heard the door being unlocked, and in stepped her Angel. He wore a dashing suit: black trousers that slid over his muscular legs, a white cotton dress shirt, fitted over with a deep mauve vest and a brilliantly fitted over coat. In his hands, he carried a tray of delicious foods, which included fruit, eggs, bacon and toast. On the side of the tray lay a red rose.

"Hello, my dear. I brought you some breakfast. I want you to eat everything on this plate; you were quite weak yesterday morning, and have been sleeping ever since."

Christine smiled and sat up in her bed, resting her back against the headboard, "Thank you so much, it all looks so good. But I have a terrible headache, and I don't think food will agree with me right now."

"Christine, you haven't had anything to eat or drink in over a day. No wonder your head hurts." He took the fork, gathered a small portion of eggs, and brought it up to Christine's mouth.

Christine winced at the thought of being forced to consume something that made her feel sick at the smell of it. Not that the eggs were cooked poorly, she just didn't have the will to eat. Making a face like that of a repulsed child being forced to eat her vegetables, she reluctantly opened her mouth and swallowed the eggs, at the sight of her teacher's pleading eyes.

"There's my good girl! Can you do this by yourself, or do I need to feed you all of your meals?" he joked.

Christine giggled at the absurdity of what he said. "No, I can do it."

"Here you go," he handed her the fork and stood up "I'll be back in a little bit; I'm going to make you some tea. Then we need to have a talk, ok?"

Christine nodded, and began eating her meal. She knew what he had wanted to discuss: The temper tantrum she threw the morning before. He probably wanted to, one: Make sure she was mentally stable after that performance, and two: Instruct her that that kind of behavior wouldn't be tolerated anymore. How could she blame him? Was he to be her personal punching bag when things started to get rough? Of course not. She was grateful that he had brought her back to a place were she felt safe and could recover. She was also glad that he was willing to talk about this with her, and not pretend as if it never happened.

With each bite she ate, she realized how hungry she really was. The eggs still didn't agree with her stomach, but the fruit, bacon and toast were devoured within moments. She looked at the rose, and weakly grasped it in her hand. What did was this supposed to symbolize? Admiration? Comfort? Love? The questions that had plagued her in her dreams came swirling about in her mind, and she began to grow dizzy at the thought of them.

"Christine, are you finished? My dear, you still haven't eaten your eggs. Are they not to your liking?"

Christine immediately replied, "No, no, they are very good. I just can't seem to eat them with out feeling sick. Everything else was excellent. You are quite the chef!"

Erik couldn't help but smile at her admiration. He had gotten up especially early to make sure she had the perfect breakfast. The eggs took him an especially great deal of attention, and he was a little bothered she hadn't eaten them. It was all for the best though, he thought. There was no use in making herself sick over a few bites of egg. He set a saucer with a cup of tea on the nightstand.

"How are you feeling this morning my child?" he inquired.

"Well, my head is still pounding, but the food helped quite a bit."

"Good, good." Taking a deep breath, he proceeded to inform Christine of his arrangements for her future, terrified of her inevitable response, "Christine, I want to talk to you about yesterday. I know you were very confused, and still am. I want you to know that I am going to help you in every way that I can. I live for you to be happy, Christine. But to help you understand your feelings, you're going to have to stay with me."

Christine didn't have a problem with this. She wanted to stay with her Angel until she could sort out her feelings. There was no use in getting Raoul involved with them. He had been nothing but perfectly sweet to her, and she didn't want to burden him with her problems.

"Alright." She replied

Erik cringed because he knew she didn't understand what he meant. His heart began to race, as he calmly explained, "Christine, I mean for the rest of your life. You're going to stay here, with me, for the rest of your life."

Erik held his breath and waited for her reaction.


	4. Cruel Mockery

**Thanks so much for the reviews! They brightened up my day so much. My MSU Spartan BBall team lost yesterday, so I'm a little sad over that. But luckily during my sociology class today, I was able to sketch out my storyline (see what a good student I am?) , so I'm not sitting at my computer, writing aimlessly. **

Chapter Four

Christine's face suddenly went blank. What did he mean the rest of her life? If she had known that was his request, she never would have followed him into the mausoleum. The rest of her life? Those five words continued to echo constantly in her mind. The rest of her life. Her face grew pale. The rest of her life.

"Christine? Are you alright?", Erik stammered, "I know this must come as a shock to you. I'm going to do my best to take such good care of you. I promise you Christine, I promise, you'll be the happiest woman in France. You're safe with me."

Christine's eyes began to water.

"Oh God! She's crying! Did I make the wrong choice?" he wondered, "Should I command her to quickly forget I ever said these words, and send her up to the Opera? Oh God….."

"But I…….. I………Raoul……the rest of my life….", Christine choked. It was all too much.

Not knowing what to do, Erik hesitated, and did what his initial impulse told him to do. He wrapped her in his arms. "You'll be fine, you'll be fine. Ssshhh. There, there. I know, you'll be fine," he tried to comfort her as best he could. Once again, she was sobbing into his chest. But this time, it hurt. She was not crying out of the loss of her father, or her vulnerability, but directly from the words he had spoken. He had wanted so badly to only make her happy. She will be he assured himself. She doesn't know I am saving her life and music by doing this. She'll learn.

"Christine, I want you to take your time and drink your tea," he said, staring into her tear drenched face. He couldn't bear to look at it anymore, for it was forcing him to well up tears of sadness, "If you feel up to getting out of bed, there are clean dresses in the closet. Otherwise, there is nightgown in the top dresser drawer; put it on and rest."

And with that, he quickly left the room, gently closing the door behind him. At the click of the knob, he burst into tears. He loved her so much! Why couldn't she see that? Why couldn't she see that she would be happier in one lifetime with him, than a thousand lifetimes in the poisoned sun? He slumped pathetically into the bathroom, blubbering like a child. He pulled off the sheet that covered the mirror and gazed at himself. On the right side of his face, he wore a white leather mask, concealing the deformity which lived underneath. He slowly peeled it away and winced at the sight of his scarred reflection. He looked to the left side of his face. It was smooth and supple. He felt his body underneath his silken vest. So defined, so strong. It was all a cruel mockery to the blemished agony of his face.

Screaming, he rammed his head into the mirror, full of rage. It did not break, and his reflection was as clear as ever. He slumped to the ground and cried. He cried until he had difficulty catching his breath. He forced himself to calm down. Standing up, he looked back into the mirror, and as infuriated as he was the first time he looked, he began to cry again. He repeated this over and over. Praying that somehow a divine being (he didn't believe in God) would hear his cries, and turn his tears into soap that would wash the imperfection away. But with each glance into the mirror, he was more and more convinced that no such being existed and that Christine would never grow to see past his tortured appearance.

What he did not know however, was that with each tear he shed, Christine shed a partner for sympathy, as she could hear his wails between the walls.

**Side note: I'm honestly not crazy about this chapter. It felt choppy to me, and I didn't really want Christine to have another crying fest. I mean, I'm two for four so far with the breakdowns. Don't worry though, in the next few chapters, Christine gets some attitude.**


	5. Crossing the Line

**Woo hoo for strong Christine's! One of my biggest pet peeves is when Christine's character immediately falls in love Erik, when she had just despised him a chapter ago. This girl has got some backbone, and I'm not afraid to show it!**

Chapter Five

Christine had not left her room for hours. She was frightened to leave. The screams she heard coming from her Angel's body terrified her. She had cried as well, but softly and quietly. After her crying ceased, she got out of bed and changed into the nightgown that was provided. She was in no mood for squeezing herself into a tightly corseted dress. She sat down at her vanity, picked up a brush and began to brush her hair. As she did, she began to think of someway to get out of this predicament. She believed her Angel had just gotten carried away, and she would do whatever necessary to change his mind. Refuse to eat. Refuse to talk. Refuse to sing.

On the other hand, she wasn't sure if she entirely wanted to leave him. She loved Raoul very much, and would never want to see him hurt or alone. But something drew her to her Angel like nothing before. If she really and truly wanted to leave, she knew nothing could stand in her way short of death. But did she want to leave?

"May I?"

Christine jumped at the sound and sight of her Angel standing behind her. She hesitantly handed him the brush, never taking her eyes off of him in the mirror.

Erik took the brush and began to stroke it gently through her hair. He had always wanted to brush through it, to touch it. It could be so wild, with its curls and bouncy attitude, the way Christine could behave. At other times, it was soft and demure; Christine could act like that when she wanted to as well. He loved it when it was down, and sat gracefully on her shoulders.

He didn't dare look into Christine's eyes in the mirror; he was too frightened to see if she were still crying. He could feel her eyes on him, piercing through his fragile face.

"Well?" she asked suddenly.

Erik cleared his throat and responded, "Well what?'

"Well have you changed your mind yet about your ridiculous request?" She began to notice how gentle he was being with her curls, making sure not to pull her hair, treating each strand as if it were enlaced in gold.

"I'm afraid it wasn't a request, Christine. It was an order." He glanced up quickly with only his eyes to see the reaction on her face. Their eyes meet and he quickly looked back to her hair.

"I see. And who are you to give such a command? You can't force me to stay here."

"My dear, please stop argu—"

"Arguing with you? What is that not allowed all of a sudden? I'm not allowed to say how I feel anymore?"

Erik was beginning to grow angry. With each demoralizing word she spoke, he began to brush her hair more harshly.

"I don't understand you." She continued, "One minute, I'm being told to sing all of my feelings and express my emotions, the next thing I know, I'm being to told to shut my mouth." She noticed his strokes turn from smooth to rough within a matter of moments. "Ouch! You're hurting me!"

"Well if you wouldn't say such things to me, I wouldn't feel the need to, now would I?"

"Ugh. Here we go—"

"Stop it, Christine! Just stop it now!" He pulled her by her shoulder out of the chair. "I'm trying to be patient with you, but you are pushing yourself to a very fine line. And once it's crossed, I swear to you, I'll—"

"You'll what?" She stared defiantly into his eyes, alive with anger. She didn't care though. She knew he would never really hurt her. He didn't answer, so she repeated her question, "You'll what?"

Erik honestly didn't know. What would he do to her? He could never hurt her, but somehow he must convince her of his wrath. He had to teach her somehow, without crossing "the line" as he had so eloquently put it. People had crossed that line with him before, and now they were six feet underground.

He couldn't bother coming up with an answer now, he could see this argument wasn't bettering his situation. He violently threw her arm down, and dropped the brush on the floor.

"Go to sleep. You're not well."

"Why must everyone say that? I'm fine! You are the one who is not well!" Christine began pacing around the room, on her way she knocked over a candelabra. "You live in this sickening place, you put a few candles in it and a bed, and suddenly it's supposed to be my dream home?"

Erik clenched his fists, growing ever more upset, "Do as I say. Go to bed. Now."

And with that he left the room, and locked the door behind him. He was in no mood for her to come prancing out, tossing more accusations at him. If she did, he knew she would upset him, and he would get very angry, or even worse: sad. She couldn't see him cry. If she did, she would never take his commands seriously. He needed time alone where he could think threw this. He had not thought it through initially, and now he was suffering the consequences.

"I'm not tired! I've slept for more that 24 hours for God's sake! I'm not sick!" She pounded her fists on the door, though she knew it wouldn't do much good.

"What am I to do?" She wondered. Should she obey her Angel, and stay with him forever? She was fond of him, she didn't think she loved him. But he did spark a certain passion in her, which no one else could. And what about Raoul? Was she to just leave him, make him think she abandoned him? Could she write him a note? She imagined what it might say:

_Dearest Raoul,_

_I'm sorry but I can't see you anymore. I'm living under the Opera House with my Angel of Music from now on. It's not what I had planned but it's the Angel's orders! _

_Ta-Ta!_

_Christine_

Christine amazed herself that she could joke in a situation like this. Most girls would be contemplating suicide. Perhaps she could joke, because the idea of staying wasn't all too far fetched. But she still couldn't come to a conclusion.

She said, aloud this time, "What am I to do?"

**Please review! I always hesitate to update without enough reviews, because I want to make sure most people like what's going on! Review please, even if it's only a few words, it means so much! Thanks! )**


	6. Singing Lessons

**Yea Christine finally leaves her room! 'Bout damn time, huh?**

Chapter Six

Christine had not left her room all day and night. Erik was beginning to worry, as she had been in there for 48 hours. If she wasn't up by 9:00 a.m., he would go in and force her out of bed. He would bath her and dress her if he had to. This was getting ridiculous, not leaving her room for over two days.

Erik stared at the clock. 8:58.

Why wasn't she out of bed yet? He started fidgeting with his hands. He walked over to the kitchen, and made sure the breakfast he had prepared for her looked as appetizing as possible.

8:59.

He turned the plate slightly to the right, and straightened the silver-ware.

9:00.

Erik marched straight to her room. He urgently rapped on the door.

"Christine? Christine, get up! You've been in there for two days!"

He received no response. Fumbling, he pulled the key out of his pocket and clumsily turned the lock and opened the door. He walked to her bed and pulled up the sheer black curtains around it. Christine was no where to be seen. He heard a sound behind him and dashed around.

There stood Christine, fresh out of the bath, dressed in a sheer robe he had provided for her. The robe was meant to go over the matching nightgown, but she wore nothing underneath. Her body was so beautifully white, he couldn't tell where her robe ended and she began. The only thing he could see were the small brown tips of her breasts under the lace. Embarrassed, his eyes quickly darted to the floor.

"Breakfast is ready for you. Get dressed and come eat. Your singing lesson begins at 9:30."

He staggered out of the room in a daze. Oh, how he wanted to run up to her body and plant kisses on it, over every square inch of her snow white skin. But he didn't and he was strangely proud of himself for keeping such composure.

Christine stood in shock as he stood before her. She just grabbed the robe, because it was the closest thing to her, never imagining he would see her in it. She had not slept much that night, and had gotten up early to take a long hot bath. The water soothed her strained muscles, and the smell of the soaps invigorated her senses. She was somewhat embarrassed he had seen her in such a fashion, but she had to admit to herself that he did excite her in someway; and it felt good.

She dressed herself into a beautiful gown that was pale yellow. It was trimmed with lace around the neck and arms. On the bodice pink flowers with green leaves were embroidered. The corset she found in the closet pushed her small breasts up, so two small mounds were visible just above the scope neck line of the dress. Hardly a coincidence, she thought.

She tied her hair with a pink ribbon down by the nape of her neck. She put some rouge on her face. She was surprised so was provided with all these luxuries. She furthermore surprised herself by using them. Why should she care if she looked attractive? Why did she even bother with the corset? Why the ribbon? Why the rouge? She didn't know, but she used them all, just the same.

She arose from her vanity bench and walked to the door. Smoothing her dress, she calmly opened it and exited for the first time in two days. She walked over to the kitchen, where he pulled out a chair and allowed her to sit. He then took the white napkin from the table and placed it on her lap. His hands lingered on her dress, remembering what was hidden between all the layers of fabric; what he_ could_ remember in the spilt second he looked at her body. Catching himself, he lifted his hands and walked over to his chair and took a seat.

"Coffee, my dear?", he asked her.

"Yes, please."

He was a bit taken aback by her sudden civilized manner. Satisfied, he poured her a cup of coffee.

"Thank you. I actually am pretty hungry."

"Well you've practically been starving yourself these past few days."

"You said earlier I was to have a singing lesson today. You still want me to sing?"

"Of course." , he said, obviously concerned. "Christine, music is what we are. It's our passion. It's the one constant in our world. When you sing for me, you make me feel as if I have been whisked to heaven's gates, and have the privilege of hearing the Angels sing."

Christine's face grew much softer as he described their music together. When she sang for him, a wave of euphoria swept over her. When she sang for him, all she could focus on was pleasing her teacher, pushing herself every time. And when he sang for her, that's when the real fireworks in her body began. When he sang, she would grow short of breath, her eyes unable to tear away from him; the area between her thighs would begin to pulsate.

"You have the same effect on me." She said looking back down to her meal. She shifted her eyes towards his, and noticed that he was staring at her, grinning.

They both let out a bashful giggle, as a sigh of relief. They ate their breakfast together, talking about a multitude of topics: the managers, Madame Giry, the ballet. Then Christine brought up Don Juan Triumphant. He had informed the entire company just days ago that it was to be the next opera to be performed, with Christine as the star.

"What about Don Juan Triumphant? Am I still going to be singing in it?"

Erik honestly hadn't decided. He didn't want to risk her going back up to the opera and running into the Vicomte again; but on the other hand, he hand written it especially for her, and it would be a crime for any other girl to sing the role of the passionate Amnita.

"Come with me Christine."

He rose out of his chair, and walked into the next room where the organ was. Christine obediently followed him, curious to see what he was going to show her.

"This is the role I had intended for you to sing. Whether you will or not for an audience, I don't know. But I want to you sing this part, right here. Can you do that for me?"

Christine studied the notes and lyrics and nodded. Within seconds her Angel was playing and she began to release a glorious sound from her small body.

"_No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!"_

Erik abruptly stopped playing and gazed into his beloved's eyes. For years upon years he had worked on this opera, and here she was, his Angel, singing it for him. A life's work of sweat and toil final beingliberated through her voice. But he never imagined it sounding as splendidly sweet as the way it did, coming from her two beautiful lips. She sang it the way it was meant to be sung, the way he could never dream of. His masterpiece was being brought to life, right before him, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Is something wrong? Is that not how it's supposed to sound?"

"No. God, no." Erik replied quickly, forcing himself to hold back tears of joy. "That was……that was……perfection."

And on that uplifting note, they sang their way through the day and on into the night.


	7. Breathless

**I felt the need to speed things up, so this is fast forward about two weeks. Just humor me and imagine that have had some more arguments and they've basically all ended the same way the ones I have written have. I've been getting a lot of questions asking me if this was going to turn out to be an E/C story. I hope this chapter will answer that question ;). Except for the first paragraph, this whole chapter is from Erik's POV.**

Chapter Seven

Two weeks had passed, and each day Christine stayed, she had less and less will to leave. At times she was very resistant, but all her Angel had to do was sing for her. When he sang, she succumbed to his power and lived off his voice. Each day had the same rhythm as the one before. Christine would wake around 9:00, bath and change. They would have breakfast together, discussing the music they would work on for that day. Then they sang. He would sing for her. She would sing for him, exciting and inspiring each other. And then they would sing together. Their voices would melt into one, and for a moment, they became one body, releasing two magnificent sounds. Those moments were the reason Christine stayed with her Angel. Even if they only lasted a few minutes, she would stay with him for a thousand years, if only to experience it again.

Erik could not believe how well everything was turning out. Christine still thought of him as her "Angel" not a real man, but he would change that in time. Meanwhile, they surprisingly got along.

But he could tell her spirit was beginning to leave her. He knew she loved singing for him, with him, but she had another love: Performing at the Opera House. They worked on Don Juan Triumphant each day, and she sang it flawlessly. He felt that after all of this hard work, she should be the one to perform it, not Carlotta. He had gone up a few times over the past few weeks, and he was appalled to hear the Diva shrieking her way through "The Point of No Return." And so one evening, after her lesson, he approached Christine about returning to the opera house.

"My Dear?"

"Hm?" she lazily responded. She was lying on the couch, engrossed in a book from his library. She wore her white nightgown with the matching shear robe. In one hand she held the book, and with the other she twirled a tendril of hair around her delicate fingers. Candles burned directly behind her, her hair glowing; she was a Goddess.

"I wanted to talk to you about Don Juan Triumphant."

"Oh, what about it?" she responded, still reading.

"Will you be so kind as to put that book down for a moment?" he said, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, sorry, it was just getting really good."

Erik smiled. She was still a child; still fascinated by stories of princes on white horses. "How do you feel about performing the role of Aminta at the Opera House?"

"Oh! Could I? I'd love it so much! You'll really let me? Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she leaped over to him, and hugged him out of gratitude. He was in a brief state of panic. What should he do? Should he hug her back?

Suddenly his mind cleared, "Of course you should hug her back, fool! The girl is touching you out of her own free will, and your standing here like an idiot!", he thought.

He strongly embraced her, slightly lifting her off of her feet. "Would it really please you, Christine?" asked, snuggling his face into her curls.

"Oh, yes! Yes my Angel! Yes! Yes!"

Erik suddenly put her down, and placed his arms on each of her shoulders. He looked into her eyes. A wave of passion swept over him and he wanted to kiss her. Could he kiss her? Should he? Oh, how he wanted to! She softly looked back at him, but her eyes still had that fire. That fire she omitted through her voice. That fire that made him weak in the knees. _She _had hugged him; maybe she wanted to be kissed as well. He was tired tiptoeing around her feelings. She belonged to him, he knew it and she knew it. Throwing caution to the wind he leaned forward to kiss her lips. But as he lowered his head, he looked at her; she knew what he was doing. The smile dissolved from her face and her eyes were in a state of panic. Before he could stop himself, she lowered her head and his kiss landed on her forehead.

She had rejected him. She knew he wanted to kiss her, _how_ he wanted to kiss her, and she turned her lips away. His heart sank. He could feel his checks begin to feel heavy.

Humiliated, he tried to play it off as if that were his intention, hoping she would buy his phony lie, "I'll take you up tomorrow, with a note for the managers instructing them that you will take over the role of Aminta. Good night."

Christine forced herself to smile at him, and went to her room. Frustrated Erik sat at his organ and began writing music, anything to take his mind off of the embarrassment he had experienced. How could he have been so stupid? Why would she want to kiss him? She could never feel that way about him, _how_ could she? But didn't she realize how much he loved her? Wasn't it obvious? Why was he rejected, time after time? Why God! Why?

Suddenly she was standing next to him, gently massaging his face, the way she did the first time she tore his mask away. "Was she going to take it again?", he wondered. "Fine let her take it. I'm tired of hiding."

And as though she could read his mind she gently took the mask off and stared into his face. He closed his eyes, too terrified to witness her reaction.

And then Christine kissed him. She kissed him fully and completely with every ounce of strength she had to offer; her tongue intertwining with his, her lips softly grazing his skin. She kissed him as he had longed to kiss her. She pulled him out of his chair and stood looking at him face to face. She wasn't frightened.

"Good night my Angel", she softly whispered. She turned to leave, but Erik grabbed her by her shoulder and threw her back into his mouth. He violently grazed his tongue with hers; searching through, caressing every corner of her mouth. He grabbed her hips and flung them up against his. He could feel her hands stroking his face, traveling into his hair with desire. His eyes welled up with tears of joy, and without a care, he let them run. This is all he wanted in life! His Angel, her body, spirit, mind and voice, all to him! He feverishly continued kissing her, until he was breathless. He then slowly parted their lips.

Christine looked at him and saw a tear streaming down the deformed side of his check.

"Don't cry, my Angel", she soothed, kissing his tear away.

"Don't cry."

**Erik and Christine kissing, as my buddy Martha would put it: "It's a good thing."**

**This is my favorite chapter so far. I had this idea when I was getting ready for bed the other night, but I didn't know yet where it would be in the storyline. I sat down to my computer, and thought, "Hmmm….what should happen next? Aw, screw it, I'm doing the kiss, damn it! This has gone on long enough!" I also wanted to address the musical aspect and answer the questions asked to me about whether Christine will perform again.**

**I'm afraid I won't be able to update for a while. I was so excited to post this chapter, but now I have no more, and have to write them (. That on top of school, sorority, and NCAA basketball season, they might be slow coming. But don't fret! I have a whole storyline planned out, so it definitely won't be abandoned!**


	8. Return to the Opera

**Thank you for being so patient with me! This week has been crazy! I've been so busy with school and recruitment (you're "looking" at the newest member of Delta Gamma) that I haven't had time to sit and write. **

**Unfortunately, I had to reintroduce the dreaded "F" word in this chapter, the Fop aka Raoul. I don't necessarily dislike Raoul, so I'm not too hard on him. I mean he is really a good guy. **

Chapter Eight

The next morning Christine woke up, remembering the events of the previous evening. She was told she would be able to sing the role of Amnita at the opera house. She hugged him, and when she did she could feel his passion bleeding into her. She remembered that look he gave her, yearning to kiss her. Frantically, she lowered her head. She didn't know if she wanted to kiss him. She was worried that would just begin to confuse her again, just when she thought she had sorted everything out in her mind. But as she walked away from him, into her bed chamber, she turned and looked back at him. Her heart ached at the sight of his miserable sadness. It was then, seeing him in that vulnerable condition, she knew she wanted to kiss him. She calmly marched back to him, took off his mask, stared into his disaster of a face and kissed him. And not only did she kiss him, but he kissed her back, long and hard.

They ate breakfast together, as always. Their conversation flowed smoothly and neither felt uncomfortable around each other. Erik told her how she would get above ground and back down to the lair.

He would escort her in the boat, through the mirror, into her dressing room. At the end of rehearsals, she would promptly return to the dressing room where he would take her back underground.

And so that morning, they both got into the boat and journeyed back into the world of light.

xXxXxX

"Christine? I can't believe you're back!", said Meg.

"Hi, Meg! Oh my, it is so good to see you! I've missed you so!" replied Christine, hugging her best friend.

She was glad to be in the company of familiar faces again. When she arrived, she did as she was instructed and immediately delivered the note Erik had written to the manager's office. She gave it to Mousier Firmin, where he vainly read it, crumpled it up, and quickly said, "Fine." As Christine turned to leave, she could faintly hear him mumble something under his breath. All she could make out was, "Bloody ghost……drop everything for him……..I'm sick of this…." Christine could not help but smile at his hissy fit.

"Christine, where have you been? Everyone's been worried sick about you!", said Meg.

"Really Meg?"

"Oh yes! My mother's been nervous wreak, waiting to see if you were alright. The managers didn't know what to do, so they decided to go on with Don Juan, this time with Carlotta in the lead. And Raoul……" Meg's voice trailed off.

"Raoul? What? Meg, what's happened? Is he alright?" Christine's heart was beating a mile a minute.

"No, I mean, he's fine. He's just been so distant. It's like he doesn't care about anything. Ever since he woke up that morning and you weren't in your bed. He's gone out of his mind trying to find you. He was so suspicious of my mother, thinking she knew where you were. If he does talk at all, it's about you. About where you may be or how he was going to rescue you. But he'll be so glad to finally see you again! You stay right here, I'll go and find him!" said Meg, giddy with excitement.

"No Meg! No." Christine said harshly. She was afraid of what might happen to her or him if they conversed.

"But Christine, you don't know how happy this will make him. To know that your well and aren't harmed. Why wouldn't you want to speak with him? He is your fiancée."

"Oh, Meg….." Christine whimpered. How could she tell her friend the truth? How would she react? She couldn't speak with Raoul, she was afraid of the consequences. But before she could hide herself, Raoul had already seen her from the other end of the room.

"Christine?" Oh Lord, Christine?" He ran frantically through the ballerina's who were rehearsing, not caring who he hit on the way. Tears stung through his eyes, he couldn't believe he was seeing her standing before him.

Christine heart skipped a beat when she heard her name being called. She looked up, and there he was, her love, dashing towards her. Oh how could she resist him? She loved him so, and missed his face, missed his touch.

He finally reached her, and smothered her in his arms. He repeated her name over and over, praying he wasn't dreaming. Was she really here, in his arms? Was he really holding her? He could feel her chest rapidly beating up and down; she was crying.

"Oh my God Christine! Where were you? Did he take you again? Did that monster steal you away from me? Christine, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I should have stayed awake the night you left me."

He ceased hugging her and grasped on to each of her shoulders, staring into her tear drenched eyes. He cringed at the thought of her being away from him, hidden from the world.

"How did he take you? Where did he take you? Did he violate or hurt you," he pleaded. Christine just looked back at him, blankly. She was uncomfortable with his grip on her; not because she didn't love him, because she knew her Angel may be watching and would not be satisfied. "Christine, why aren't you saying anything?"

"I….I….. I have to go." Christine murmured. She didn't know what to do. What she really wanted to do was explain everything to Raoul, were she had been the in the past weeks. But she knew of the havoc that would reek if she did. She forced herself to leave him, and ran to her old dressing room in tears.

"Christine, wait! We need to talk! Christine!" He caught the door, just as she was about to close it shut. "Christine, I need to know where you've been. Please, don't shut me out,. Don't do this to us."

"Raoul, please just stay away from me. Please Raoul, if you really love me, I beg of you, just leave."

Raoul was dumbfounded. Here was his fiancée, who had been missing for weeks, and she's asking him to leave? She wouldn't even tell him where she had been this entire time? His first reaction was to pound on her door, insistent to receive answers to his questions. On second thought, he decided it was best to leave her. She was obviously afraid of the man who had kidnapped her. She would answer his questions in time, when she began to feel safe. In the meantime, at least she was back and safe.

**Sorry for the lack of E/C interaction today. I know, I know, but hey these chapters are necessary sometimes. I have two tests coming up, more sorority stuff, and am catching Phantom at the movies one more time this week, so it may take a while for a new chapter. But then again, I may quickly get bored with my homework, and decide to write, write, write! **

**FYI: The more reviews I get, the more tempted I am to write faster…….hint hint ;)**


	9. Duel Images

**Ok, I'm writing this on Valentine's Day, eating pity chocolate from my friends. Well chocolate's chocolate I guess :). So I rented "When Harry Met Sally" and am watching it as I write this. **

Chapter Nine 

After a few moments in her dressing room, her Angel's shape started to appear through the mirror. Without a word spoken between them, he guided her back to his sanctuary. She wondered if he knew about the conversation her and Raoul just had. Or about the feelings that surfaced in her heart the moment she was held in his arms. Before she could worry about it too long, he finally spoke.

"I saw you conversing with that boy today.", he said matter-a-factly. "You are never to talk to him again Christine."

She didn't respond. She just gazed straight ahead, as he towered behind her, rowing the boat.

"Christine? Christine, did you hear me? You belong to me, and I refuse to have to gallivanting around with him at all hours of the day. If you want to continue singing at the Opera, I will support that to the full potential. But if that happens again, Christine, you'll never leave this darkness. Ever. Are you listening?"

Christine absent mindedly nodded her head, her mind still in a daze. All she could think of was the feeling in she got in her chest when she laid her eyes on her star crossed lover.

"Good. Come," he said, helping her out of the boat. "Let's have dinner, and then maybe I'll read to you."

Christine walked into the kitchen and sat down at her normal chair. Erik already had dinner made, and it was warming up in the gas oven.

They sat together and ate their supper, with little being said between them. Erik could sense the tension that was built; it could be cut with a knife. Everything had been fine between them, but ever since that afternoon, when she saw Raoul, things had been different. He was steadily growing more uncomfortable; trying to spark up conversations, but nothing seemed to take. They sat in silence, as Erik thought of a last idea.

"Christine, would you like me to sing for you?"

The moment he spoke those words, Christine didn't know the meaning of name "Raoul". The look in her eyes answered the question for him, and he immediately began to sing acapella, singing the song he sang to her in her dreams as a child, what he sang to her the first night her brought her into his underground.

"_Silently the senses, abandon their defenses…" _

Christine was at complete peace with herself when she heard the sweet tantalizing sound come from his mouth. She could stay with him, listening to his voice until the end of time.

"_Help me make the music of the night….."_

As he sang the last notes of the song, they leaned into each other, inevitably closer. As his lips released the last word; he released it into her mouth. He completely overpowered her with his passion. Her mouth tingled with excitement. The sensation swept through her body, into her lungs, through her stomach, ending between her thighs. She felt his large hands travel, up from her hips, over her ribs, with one hand stopping at her breast, and the other reaching into her curly tendrils. She released a soft moan from the back of her throat, and with it, his kiss only went deeper. His hand slipped under the collar of her dress, and he pressed it deep into her breast, frustrated with the stiff corset she wore that blocked his craving. He put much pressure on her body, trying to break through the barrier; he forced her to lie on her back on the couch. He realized it was an uphill battle with no end in sight He changed his focus to the lower half of her body. With one arm supporting his weight, he frantically dove through her many skirts with the other. Finally he sensed he was touching her warm flesh. He let his arm slide up, higher and higher, until once again her undergarments prevented his advancement.

He could hear her sigh with pleasure at his touch. Her eyes were closed, and she was in a state of ecstasy. His eyes traveled to her collarbone and neck. It was such a fragile delicate area. He could easily snap her neck or collarbone with a twist of his wrist. He plummeted his head into the nape of her neck, kissing every square inch he could find. He could smell the vanilla scent in her hair and body. Her skin almost had a vanilla flavoring and he sucked out every drop of the taste, as if his life depended on it.

His mouth traveled down her neck, and he kissed the outlines of her collarbones. Their definition would change with each move of her shoulders. His lips traveled farther down her body to her upper chest. Her hands were holding his head, guiding him lower and lower, until he reached the bloody corset again. His first intention was to rip if off, but it seemed to be a sign. This contraption had prevented him from the glories of Christine's body three times; perhaps it was time to stop. If he was going to break Christine's virginity, he didn't want it to be on a whim. He always dreamed of it being on their wedding night, and he didn't want to enjoy his spoils before they had been earned.

Christine could sense his lips slowing, kissing her at less frantic pace. "Erik, please don't stop. Oh, God, Erik…..not now…..please, I need….. I need you……please don't…", she was completely out of breath and could barely let a word escape her mouth.

"Hush, hush. Not now, my dear, not yet." He said, rubbing his unmasked cheek against hers. "Soon, I promise Christine. Soon."

xXxXxXxXx

Christine rehearsed through the days, glad to be back on the stage. But it pained her to see Raoul looking at her, and her being helpless to comfort him. Every time she looked at him, two images flashed through her mind. One of her and Raoul, loving each other in his bed. They had made love on the evening after the premier Il Muto performance. The love they made was soft, tender and silent. No sounds were emitted through their bodies. All that could be heard was the gentle rustling of the sheets. It was so calm and demure. She could hardly compare it to the emotions she felt with Erik. Even though they both remained fully clothed the whole time, the simple experience of her skin coming in contact with his far surpassed what she felt with Raoul. It sent shock waves through her body, penetrating to her most womanly parts. She began to see her "Angel" in a new light. He was starting to evolve into a man in her eyes, who sparked a fire in her like no one else could. The two images fought with each other in her mind, each one trying to over take the other.

The premier of Don Juan was edging closer and closer, and she rehearsed to her full potential. Two days before the premier, she noticed she had not seen Raoul all day. It was very unlike him to be missing. He was understandably very concerned about the manner in which his money was spent, and kept a close eye on the operations of the Opera House. She was somewhat concerned at his sudden absence, praying everything was alright. When she was through rehearsing, she returned to her dressing room. After she closed the door, she looked up to see Raoul sitting at her vanity.

"Christine, can we talk? I haven't talked to you in weeks; you don't know how worried I've been. Don't be afraid Christine; you know you can tell me anything."

"Raoul, how long have you been here? I haven't seen you all day."

"Well I was detained this morning, and when I arrived here I had to speak with you. But I saw you were so busy with costuming and rehearsing, so I thought this would be the most convenient place to speak with you."

…_.Erik' arm grazed her thigh…._

"I must to speak with you. I don't understand what's going on. We are _engaged_, Christine! _Engaged_! You were gone completely for weeks, as if you fell off the planet."

…_..The sheets rustled as Raoul's face tenderly looked down on her………._

Then you return, but you suddenly disappear immediately after rehearsals. I feel like I'm pulling teeth just to catch your eye."

……_.Erik's teeth sucked into her neck……_

"Christine?" Raoul shook her shoulders, as she seemed to be lost in a trance. "Christine!"

Christine snapped herself out of her plaguing daydreams. She debated about whether or not she should say something. She wanted to hold him and kiss him, tell him that she loved him. But at the same time, she couldn't wipe the feeling Erik gave her from her mind. On top of everything, she was forbidden to even be speaking with him. His safety came first, and she knew he would not be safe if stayed with him. She knew what she had to do.

"Raoul, I can't marry you. I need you to leave", she begged, "Please do this, please. I've asked you once, and still you return to me. Don't make this harder for me than it is. Please just go."

"Christine, you don't know what you're saying right now. You've been brainwashed and you're spouting out things you don't mean. Don't do this to us because of him. We will get through this."

Raoul grabbed her and forced her into a kiss. It was very much unlike Erik's. It was slow and calm. She tried to resist, but he had his arms wrapped around her, and even if they weren't, she doubted she could pull away from his touch. His lips soothed her body, calming every fear she could imagine. He backed away slowly.

"Christine, I don't know how many ways to tell you how much I love and care for you. Please come home with me. I'll take care of you, and protect you from this monster."

_Monster._ The word echoed in Christine's mind. _Monster._ He was not a monster! He was a man who cared deeply for her and held great compassion. But how could Raoul understand that? He had only seen Erik in his worst moments, when his anger overtook any hint of love he could have. How could he not think of Erik as a monster? She didn't know how to explain her feelings for Erik to Raoul, and she certainly didn't have the time to contemplate it now; Erik would be return at any moment.

"Raoul, I'm not going to go to your home tonight. But thank you for the offer. I know you love me and would do anything for my sake. I just need time."

"Alright", he whispered softly. He kissed her on the check and exited the room.

Erik's body seethed with rage as he watched the entire scene unfold from behind the mirror.

**I wrote this chapter all at once, how awesome am I? I had a free night tonight (unfortunately), so I had plenty of time to work on it. Enjoy it, because I probably won't update for about a week. I know, it's a long time, but I tried to squeak in as many E/C moments as I could. Enjoy:)**

**Reviews make me forget about homework………..;)**


	10. Hidden Hopes

**Ok, I kept my promise, one week later I am updating :). Please welcome with open arms………..ANGRY ERIK AND SCAREDY-CAT RAOUL. Woo Hoo.**

Chapter Ten

Erik burst through the mirror, startling Christine.

"We're leaving." He ordered.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her down the hall, leading to the lake.

"Erik! Ow! Erik, your hurting me!", Christine struggled, trying to break free from his unending grasp.

"What did I tell you, Christine?" he yelled, as he forcefully jerked her into the boat. "I gave you simple instructions; I told you that you may do as you please. I allowed you to sing at the Opera House, on one condition: you stay away from the Vicomte. You disobeyed me Christine. I tried to treat you like an adult, but you insist on behaving like a child. And so, I'm going to need to punish you like a child."

"Punished?" Christine questioned, as she stepped out of the boat. "You can't punish me, I-"

"Don't you dare", he warned, towering over her. As she looked into his eyes, she didn't recognize them as the same eyes she saw the night before, when she was begging him to make love to him. These eyes were full of anger, betrayal and hate. She didn't dare disobey those eyes.

He took her by the elbow, and walked her into her room.

"Take off your dress. Leave your undergarments on."

Too frightened to argue, Christine did as she was instruct; her hands shaking the entire time.

He threw her onto the bed. She shook at his fury; she'd never seen him in the state he was in now. He swung one leg over her body and straddled her. She winced at his weight being pushed on her.

"Oh, are you uncomfortable my dear? You could have fooled me last night." He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, "It must be said my dear, I've never found you as desirable as I do now." He began to kiss her neck violently, as if he were stating his claim. His arms traveled to touch hers, and before she could fight back, he was tying them above her head to the bed post.

"I'll be in later tonight. In the mean time, you are to think about what a disobedient whore you are."

"But Erik, my arms, they are in pain. How am I to stay here all night?"

"Yes, Christine, you should be in pain. Pretty soon the blood will begin to drain out of your hands. Beginning with the wrists, then palms, then finally your fingertips will be void of blood. And then you will know how it feels to have hands as cold as death. And then there can be nothing to separate us."

Christine looked at him in horror. What was he doing this for? What did he have planned next?

Erik turned and left the room.

He walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. This had gone on long enough. He had to prove to her how serious he was about her obedience. If she didn't obey him now, why would she tomorrow? Or any other day for that matter? No, now was the time she would learn. And then they would be happy together for the rest of their lives, the way they were before the Vicomte had been brought back into the woodwork.

Erik heard a noise. It was water, splashing from the lake. He stood and saw the Vicomte, pathetically trying to find his way through the lair.

"You! Where is she? I know you've kidnapped her again! Where is she?"

"My good sir, please calm yourself. Who is this women of which you speak?", answered Erik, coyly.

"Shut up! You know very well I'm talking about Christine. If she's hurt, I swear to you-"

"Excuse me sir, I'm not entirely sure that's how one behaves when they are a guest in someone's home. And as for Christine, I hate to tell you that I don't know where she is. I've been looking for her, just as you have. But if you happen to run into her, will you please give her a message that her Angel misses her terribly. I do appreciate it."

"You're lying. Do you think I'm an idiot? I know she's hidden in her somewhere." Raoul defiantly replied.

"My dear boy, if Christine were here, I would be with her, not wasting my time conversing with you. Trust me. As it is though, I am late for an appointment, so if you wouldn't mind, I think you can find your way out." answered Erik. As much as he loathed the boy he spoke to, he didn't know if he wanted to kill him. Not just yet anyhow.

"I'll not leave until Christine is by my side."

Erik boiled inside. _By her side?_ Was he not just by her side, moments ago, trespassing on his property?

"It seems to me you've been by her side plenty." Erik replied.

"You're disgusting. You think because you can control and command her voice, you have power over her heart. That's where you are sorely mistaken. Christine loves me, and I swear on my father's grave, I will save her from your eternal hell."

"One more word, boy, one more, and I promise you if I ever find Christine she will be dead within the hour."

Raoul awkwardly stepped back, tripping over the rocks that were behind him.

"I'll be back! I swear it." And with that, the Vicomte stumbled out of the lair, scared out of his wits.

"What an idiot." Erik mumbled under his breath.

He went to his organ, and worked on music for a few hours. He dreadfully wanted to rush into Christine's room and release her from the bonds, as he knew she must be in pain. He couldn't let himself think of his beloved in pain. He furiously clamored the ivory keys, letting his anger inspire his music. After hours past, he grew impatient, and practically ran to her room. She was sleeping, with her arms still placed above her head. He examined the ropes, and noticed the threads were beginning to run. She had obviously struggled with the restraints.

"Stubborn to the end", he joked. He untied the ropes, and noticed a red outline around her delicate wrists. He soothed them with his lips, hoping to kiss her pain away. Her chest heaved up and down, her breasts mockingly rising to him, then pulling away.

He dropped to his knees and pulled a box out from under the bed. It was covered with a thick layer of dust. He wiped it away, to reveal the marking he had inscribed on it years ago: _Christine's_.

He opened the fragile box, and pull out a white dress, fitted to match Christine's exact body measurements. He climbed back onto the bed and lifted Christine's back. She wearily awoke from her sleep."

"What's going on? I though I heard Raoul….", she murmured.

"Hush. Let me put this on you and everything will be fine." Erik said as he slipped the dress over her head.

"What is this?", Christine's senses began to sharpen. "This isn't mine. This is a wedding dress."

"Yes it is, please put your arm through here," he calmed.

"What's going on? What are you doing?"

"You mean 'What are we doing'. We are going to be wed Christine. I've decided it's the best thing for you. To give you some structure in your life. You obviously need it. Now please stand, so I can fasten the back fixings."

Christine's eye's filled with tears. This was it. What everything had been leading up to. She couldn't say she didn't somewhat expect it, after all the relations they had had recently.

She rose and grasped the bed post, as her Angel bound her in her wedding gown. Part of her wanted to dart for the door. To find Raoul; she knew she had heard his voice when she was lying in a half asleep manner. But the savage side of her wanted to stay with her Angel for eternity, sing with him, touch him. That side won her over and she stood obediently as he gently fastened the dress behind her.

**Once again, I wrote this in one night! I deserve a gold star…:gives self gold star:. Hope you guys liked this one, I got to bring back angry Erik, which I must say I love.**

**Reviews are the stuff dreams are made of.**


	11. Unspoken Secrets

**Thanks for all the reviews you guys! They are so nice to come home to! For those who complained that Erik would never rape Christine…I agree with you 174. You show me the part where Christine is raped, and then I'll listen to your argument. For the questions asked about whether Christine really wants to stay with Erik, I think she does. It is often pointed out that she could easily leave or show resistance, but she doesn't. **

**Ok, we've got lot's of E/C goodness in this chappie. I couldn't bear to keep him angry anymore. Our old buddy Raoul is back, and a new friend (whose name I totally pulled out of the sky, and hopes it sounds French-y) joins the cast.**

Chapter Eleven

Erik tightened each lace on the dress, so it would fit Christine properly, but not hurt her. He couldn't believe he was putting this holy dress on her beautifully shaped body. What's more, he couldn't believe she wasn't running away from his touch. He knew he had been so cruel to her, and yet here she stood, without flinching once. Why? Perhaps she wanted to marry him. He hated the thought of forcing her to stay with him, if that was not what she truly desired. When he witnessed her interactions with Raoul, it's true, he was very perturbed by it, but part of it reinstalled hope. Christine could have easily left with him. He offered to take her to his home, but she refused. Why would she if she didn't want to stay with him? Erik knew he had to have these questions answered before another step was taken. He dropped the laces and gently turned her to face him.

"Christine, I must ask you something. And I beg of you, be honest with me. I can't go on filling my mind with false promises anymore. When the Vicomte offered to take you away, what was the reason for your rejection?" He bit his lip waiting for her reaction.

"Well, for one thing, I knew how you would react if I left. I thought you would hunt us down and kill him-"

"Oh. I see. You're frightened of me.", interrupted Erik.

"But. You…..you do something to me Erik. I…I can't even put it into words. No matter what you do to frighten me, I can't seem to want to leave. The things I feel when I'm with you…no one can match them. Not even Raoul. You touch something deep within me. And when you do, nothing could make me want to leave your side. Nothing."

Erik cleared his throat. Was he actually hearing these words? If he was dreaming, he prayed he would stay in this heavenly slumber for eternity.

"I see.", he calmly replied, as tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh Erik! Don't you believe me? Don't you know that if I wanted to leave with Raoul, I would have? If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't." She softly kissed his checks, letting her lips lightly feather against his, wanting her touch to reassure him of her feelings. She pulled away hoping she had settled his mind.

"Oh Christine!", he wept. "Christine, I love you! I've loved you since the moment I heard your glorious voice fill my spirit. And then I told you I was your Angel! Your Angel of Music. When it is you, you Christine are the only Angel to walk this earth. I am nothing but a man. You know that, don't you Christine? I love you so much Christine, I've waited so long to tell you the truth. And now look," he pulled her wrists up, "look, I've hurt you! See what I've done to you Christine! You know I am not the Angel of Music. I wasn't sent to you from the heavens; although I think you knew all along. I am no Angel."

Christine leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "You're wrong. You are an Angel. As a living man, you are _my_ Angel."

Erik swung both arms around her body, and smothered it against his. They both cried into each other, out of sheer happiness. After weeks on misunderstandings, they had finally revealed their feelings to each other, and it was the most liberating experience either could have imagined.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Christine? Marriage, I mean?"

"Yes, Erik. I think the sooner we marry, the more secure I will feel."

Christine knew she was in a serious predicament. She loved two men, and now she had to choose. She couldn't continue stringing both of them around; a decision had to be made. She tried to picture how a life with Raoul would have been. Yes she loved him, but to become a member of the upper class, she didn't know how she would handle it. The thing that scared her the most was the possibility of being forced to leave her singing. But with Erik, she could love him, be herself, and sing with him, until sound refused to escape her lungs. Yes, she knew now, it was with Erik she belonged; who she was meant to be with.

And then Christine whispered the four words Erik had prayed he would hear all his life. If he could only hear hre speak those words, he would gladly die at that moment and spend an eternity in Hell.

"Erik, I love you."

And with that, they both giddily prepared to make their way to the boat, to find a church that would bless their union.

xXxXxXxXx

"I'm not quite sure I understand, sir. _Who_ do you want to me arrest?

"You heard me," answered Raoul. "The Phantom of the Opera! He's real, I tell you! He's a living, pathetic man, and now he's got my fiancée! I know he's got her, trapped and tortured her. I want you to arrest him, or shoot him for all I care! All I know is that by the end of this night, I want Christine safe, in _my_ arms. I can give you clear directions to his home, for lack of a better word. Go there tonight, do as I say, and you will be handsomely rewarded.", he said, as he threw a bag full of francs on the table.

"Yes, sir." Captain De'Luncrque greedily responded, as he took his leave.

"By this time tomorrow Christine, you'll be safe with me, and we'll no longer be in Paris.", Raoul confidently said to himself.

xXxXxXxXx

"Christine, will you hurry up! What are you doing? You're beautiful as you are, don't bother with cosmetics!" yelped Erik, as he was getting the gondola ready to leave the lair. He was only joking with her of course; she could take all the time in the world. As long as she agreed to be his wife, without any hesitation, that was enough to make him happy.

"I'll be out in two minutes! At least let me look decent for my wedding!", she joked.

"Of course, dear."

Erik laughed to himself, until he was hit over the head with something absurdly heavy, and he collapsed into the boat. He was then quickly carried out of the lair by three large men.

A few minutes later, Christine exited her room, in her full bridal array. "Alright! I'm ready, I just couldn't get the veil to fit right……Erik? Erik, this is not the time to play!" Christine looked frantically around the lair. He was no where to be seen. Suddenly, as she turned around again, a man, elegantly dressed was standing on the shore.

"You must be Christine. My dear, my name is Captian De'Lancrque, I'm here to take you to a certain Vicomte."

"But Erik…where's Erik? What have you done with him?"

"Calm down, now. Calm down. It's been taken care of. That's all you need to know. It's not uncommon for victims to defend their kidnappers if they've been brainwashed enough. Now please, your fiancée speaks of nothing but your safety. I have strict instructions to take you to him."

"No! No, I want Erik! Erik? Where are you? Help me Erik! Their taking me away! Erik!" She continued screaming, praying he would show up and save her.

The captain grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her into the boat.

"There's a good girl. Come on now, there's a good girl. Sit right there, everything will be fine, you'll be alright. There we are."

Christine continued screaming Erik's name into the warm darkness, growing more terrified with every inch she came to sunlight.

**Oh, betcha didn't see that coming, huh? Hehehee.**

**Reviews are cool things.**


	12. Assumptions

**We get to spend some more time with Raoul in this chappie, oh joy. I really do like Raoul (wow, my nose just grew 8 inches), but Erik and Christine need an obstacle to overcome. And Raoul's just sittin' there, so I'm using him. Hooray  **

Chapter Twelve

After what seemed days, Christine and the Captain finally arrived to their destination. It was a lovely home, high on a hilltop. Christine figured it must have been Raoul's summer home away from the city that he had always talked about.

"This is our stop, my dear.", announced the Captain.

Christine wearily stepped out of the carriage, still in the wedding dress Erik had given her, although now it was crinkled all over, and looked less than flattering. She had taken the veil out on the long ride and she now clung to it with one hand. She and the Caption walked into the house, where they stood in a large foyer, with was decked with marble and gold trimmings.

"Monsieur!", shouted the Captain through the halls. "I have something you've been looking for!"

Suddenly from the top of the winding staircase, Raoul burst through a door. He giddily glided down the stairs, smiling the entire time. He finally reached the bottom, as Christine stared at him in aw.

"Christine! My darling, your back and safe now. What are you wearing? He forced you to wear it didn't he? The monster."

Christine began crying into his chest, but not for the reason Raoul thought.

"It's alright. Sssshhh. It's going to be alright now. You're safe. We're going to live here, together, loving each other forever."

With each word he spoke, Christine's cries grew louder and harsher. Raoul simply believed they were cries of fear for his safety, and out of happiness she was finally saved. He stood holding her in his arms; thanking God he finally had her back.

"Come, you must be hungry. I've had the cook prepare you a lunch."

Still, weeping, she walked into the dining room by the guide of his hand and sat down at the dining set, still in an utter state of shock.

_I should be pledging my love to Erik right now._

Raoul sat at the chair next to her, wrapping an arm around the back of the chair.

"After you finish, perhaps you would like to take a nap? You must be exhausted; I know I always am after making that long trip."

Christine turned her head to face him, and it was of amazement. He spoke to her as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Who did he think he was? Taking her love, sending someone to bring her to him and not even explaining the events of the past day? Didn't he know what she was going through, being tossed from man to man?

"Raoul?"

"Yes, Darling?", he answered.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"What I mean," she explained, "Is why did you send that man to take Erik away from me and then bring me to you?"

"Dear I wasn't taking him from you, I was taking you from him. You remember him right? The man you kidnapped you? The man who wouldn't allow you to leave? The man who wouldn't let you see me? Don't tell me you enjoyed that!", he joked.

"Well, no, not at first. But things have…I don't know, things have changed. The feelings I have for Erik have matured into something I've never felt before."

"Fear, no doubt", he scoffed.

"No, not fear. It was…it was….", she paused. She didn't dare tell Raoul her and Erik were in love; she was too frightened to witness his reaction.

"…..just know that things have changed, that's all."

"Hm, I see.", he looked at her suspiciously. "Well my darling, you're here now. If you don't want to take a nap, perhaps you'd like to change out of…ahem…that."

Christine abruptly stood out of her chair. She walked to the door, leaving Raoul at the table, looking dumbfounded.

"Christine?" Where are you going?"

"To sleep."

Raoul was left sitting at the table, content with they way things were turning out.

xXxXxXxXx

Christine collapsed on the bed in a guest bedroom, not believing she was with Raoul, in his home. She cried; cried until her eyes were bone dry, not able to excrete another tear. She still wore the wedding dress. She couldn't bear to take it off. It was the last thing she had to remind her of the moment she and Erik exchanged, moments before he disappeared and Captain De'Lancrque appeared in the lair. She fell asleep, praying that when she awoke, she would be in Erik's arms.

_Christine felt the curve of Erik's body press up against the back of hers as she lay on her side in bed. His arms traveled up her thigh, her hips, and traced her shoulder line. Finally they stroked her hair. He pulled it behind her, so it wrapped around her neck. His fingers grazed her neck, as if he were prepping it to be kissed. He then delved his lips into the side of her neck. Christine moaned from pleasure, and rolled over as to kiss the lips of her lover._

"Raoul!"

"Yes, it's me Christine," he said, as he began kissing her lips.

"No…", she began brushing his lips away from hers and jumped out of the bed. "You can't do this, Raoul! You can't just kiss me, and expect that I'll forget everything that's happen. It can't work like that."

"What are you saying Christine?"

"What made you think that I ever wanted to leave Erik in the first place? I never, ever, asked you to come and "rescue" me."

"Christine, how can you say that? Excuse me for thinking that you would feel better being with you fiancée instead of your kidnapper! What _was_ I thinking?", he shot back.

"Raoul, please, just tell me where Erik is. I've been so worried about him."

Raoul looked down, to afraid to make eye contact with Christine.

"Please Raoul.", she begged. "Please."

"Erik was killed Christine. I'm sorry."

**DUN DUN DUN…….(just in case you guys haven't guessed by now, I'm an E/C shipper. So I wouldn't fret too long)**

**I'm going to Florida in a few days( I'm freezin' my a off here in Michigan), so I may not update for more than a week. On the other hand, if I get lots and lots of reviews, I may squeeze an update in before I go to tie you over….hint hint.**


	13. Compliments of OG

**You guys surprise me! You know I'm an E/C shipper! How could you think I would actually let Erik die? Well here's a super super quick update, just so some of you don't hunt me down and kill me. **

Chapter Thirteen

Erik finally awoke, but was too weak to even open his eyes. He lay down with his eyes clamped shut, praying that when he opened them he would be in his bed, with Christine curled next to him. But as his fingers traveled the surface he was on he did not feel the silk sheets surrounding him. Christine's warm body was no where to be found. Instead, he felt a cold, damp stone floor. Wearily, his eyes opened and he took in his surroundings. The room was almost completely black, but he was apt to seeing in dark spaces, so it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It was a bare room, without as much as a bucket of water. He forced himself to stand and walked to the door. Not surprisingly, it was locked.

Erik was more concerned about Christine. He knew this was the Vicomte's doing. He saw the glimmer in his eye when he claimed he would return to fetch Christine. Of course, the Vicomte didn't return however, he just sent criminals to do his dirty work. For now, he prayed that Christine was at least safe and being kept in much finer conditions than he was.

"I don't like this Frankie. Not one bit. If the Vicomte were to find out it would be our necks."

Erik heard voices on the other end of the door.

"We'll just wait an' see Jasper. The guy tol' us he'd know if we could sell him in two days. What's the harm in two days? We looked under his mask, we know the gypsies 'ill buy 'um. We'll bring him some bread and water to keep 'um going. Then if the gypsies wanna pay, we hand 'um over. And if not, we blow his brains out, like we was gonna do in the first place."

"I still don't like it. This was a good bit o money I got from this, and I wanna make sure I don't lose it!"

"A good bit o money?", Frankie replied. "Jasper, think o what the gyp's will give us. Probably doubleno, triple!"

"Alright", Jasper grunted.

Erik heard keys jingling, and watched as the lock on the door turned. He searched around the room, frantically looking for something to assist his escape. He followed his hands along the ledge that went around the room. By some strong of God, he found a rope. It was about six feet long. He quickly scurried behind the door just as it was opening.

"Hallo, little bugger! We've got some wata and breads for you!", shouted Frankie.

Suddenly from behind them Erik leaped and holding on the both ends of the rope and threw the middle over their heads as they stood next to each other. He pulled the ends of the rope together as the two men choked from the strangulation. Before they breathed their last breath, Erik whispered in their ears:

"Compliments of the Opera Ghost, my good gentlemen."

**Ok, everyone breathe a sigh of relief.**


	14. Through the Mist

**WOW! I can't believe I'm finally able to update! Ft. Lauderdale was a blast, and I'm finally tan (that'll last about 2 days). Now I'm back at Michigan State and it snowed today . But it's March Madness! Woo hoo! **

Chapter Fourteen

Christine awoke from the next morning from her sleep, disappointed to discover she was still in Raoul's home. Suddenly the events of the night before rushed into her mind, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"_Erik was killed."_

How could this be true? Erik was her Angel, the only thing that mattered anymore. He was her salvation from the loss of her father; her deliverance from a life of solidarity.

But there she lay, still, _still _in the wedding gown she had worn the previous day. She didn't trust herself there. It was only a few month's ago that she and Raoul were on the roof top of the Opera Populaire professing their undying devotion to one another. But things had dramatically changed in her heart. Erik began to emerge as a man, not only her Angel of Music. A new light was cast upon him, and suddenly only his touch could satisfy her needs. Christine couldn't explain her sudden turn of emotions, but she knew Raoul would demand justification.

Not to say that Raoul no longer held any sentiment in her heart. He always did, and always would; which was why Christine wanted to leave his house immediately. She knew she was a frail and impressionable girl. If she stayed with Raoul long enough, with out any hope of seeing Erik again, they both knew she would probably succumb and marry the Vicomte.

Learning of Erik's death had only made Christine feel more hopeless. At least before she could hope that her Angel would rescue her, and they would be married as planned. But now, emptiness had built inside her. No one would be coming to save her. If she were to do anything, it would have to be on her own. Her Angel was where he belonged. And now it was up to her to see to it that she returned to the Opera to continue the one thing Erik cared most for: her singing.

Christine forced herself to rise out of bed, and washed her face in the basin. Drying it with a towel, she walked over to closet and peered inside. It was filled with dozens of gowns, all fitted to her size. She grabbed one, not caring what color it was, or what it looked like. She gently unlaced the wedding dress, being sure not to tear it. When it was off, she lovingly folded it, and placed it under her pillow.

Her eyes caught her wrists, and she noticed they were still bruised from the night she and Raoul had kissed. Was that really only two days ago? Christine had been through so much, it felt as though that had happened weeks ago. As she stared at the bruises, she didn't know how she could want to go back to him. Look what he had done to her! Who's to say he wouldn't do it again? Was she insane? Here was a devastatingly handsome Vicomte, offering her the world, and she had the nerve to refuse? But there was one thing Raoul could never give Christine, no matter how much he tried: passion. Without passion, Christine's fire would burn out; Passion for life, passion for loving each other, passion for music. Erik was the only one who could keep her flame burning and growing in her. And it didn't seem to matter how much she resisted, or told herself she was in love with Raoul, in her heart she knew she would always belong to her Angel, whether he were dead or alive.

She walked down the stairs into the dinning room. A stunning breakfast had been laid out, and at the end of the table sat the Vicomte.

"Why, hello darling! How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm fine.", she timidly replied. She knew she had to leave this house before this day was up. Being alone with Raoul was torturous on her mind. She sat at the opposite end of the table and began to eat the sumptuous food.

"I'm afraid I have to go into the city today. But I'll try to make it back before supper.", he said as he walked to her and planted a kiss on her forehead. Christine hadn't forgotten what it was like to kiss Raoul, and when she closed her eyes, she could have sworn she was back on the roof top of the opera. Taking her closed eyes as a cue, his lips traveled down to meet with hers. He ever so gently enveloped his lips with hers, only for a few moments. He then smiled and left the house satisfied.

Christine opened her eyes to an empty room, disgusted with herself. How could she have allowed him to kiss her, with Erik dead for only a day? One thing did ease her mind however: when Raoul kissed her, she had no desire to kiss him back. Had it been Erik kissing her, her tongue would immediately start intertwining with his, allowing their souls to melt in as one. But with Raoul, nothing sparked within her, and she had no desire for the kiss to continue.

After she heard Raoul's carriage pull away, she immediately shot out of her seat and flew to the back door. She was leaving this place _now_. Even if Erik were gone for ever, there was nothing for her here. Perhaps she would return to the opera house. Or travel somewhere else, such as London or even perhaps America. But this wasn't the place for her. She knew it.

She ran back up the stairs and grabbed the wedding dress. Scurrying out of the door, she heard a voice behind her.

"Miss! Miss Daae! I'm afraid you can't leave, mademoiselle."

She turned to see Captain De'Lancrque.

"Are you always watching me sir? Can't I go for a walk with out you trying to stop me?"

"I am sorry Miss, I didn't mean to intrude. It's just that I have strict orders that you are to stay in the house. I'm sure when Vicomte returns home for the evening he will be glad to take you on a walk of the grounds. They are beautiful if I do say so myself."

"I'm sure they are. Please Captain, you know I've had a very stressful few days. I just need to walk and be by myself. I'm sure you understand."

"Well", he slowly said, "I suppose it would be alright, only for a little while however."

"Thank you." , she said, satisfied.

So Christine walked away from the mansion, away from the life she had planned on months before; away from security. Where she was walking to she didn't know, but in her heart, she knew she was doing the right thing.

xXxXxXxXx

Erik knew where Christine was. It was obvious the Vicomte was the brainchild behind the elaborate plan. No doubt he had brought Christine to his home. After Erik had taken care of his captors, he quickly stopped back at the opera house, to only ask Madame Giry where the Vicomte lived. After she unwillingly gave him directions, Erik made his way towards the house on a horse borrowed from the opera house. He galloped faster and faster, not wanting to wait another second until Christine was in his arms.

Fog surrounded Erik from all directions leaving him only about a mile of eyesight in front of him. He thought he saw a figure begin to emerge from the mists. It was small and dark, with a melancholy stature. He pulled on the reigns of the animal, forcing him to slow down. He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to believe what he was seeing. Floating from the clouds was Christine, her head down, clutching the wedding dress he had given her days before.

He pulled drastically on the reigns, halting the horse to a sudden stop. Leaping off the horse he shouted.

"Christine! Christine, is that you?", he said as he ran towards the girl.

Christine stopped walking, still staring at the ground. It couldn't be. He was gone; dead. Erik was dead. But within moments her Angel was wrapping his arms around her, tackling her to the ground.

"Erik? How can this be? Raoul said…he told me…that...", Christine's voice wandered off, as she collapsed in his arms.

"It's alright, we're together now. Never mind what he said. Sssshhh. I'm here, see? It's all going to be alright now."

"I can't believe he would do that to me; to put me through that." She took her weight off of Erik and looked into his eyes, "I can't tell you how I felt when he told me those horrid things! I didn't know what to do, but I knew I couldn't stay there. So…so after he left this morning, I just started walking. I didn't know where I was going, but I thought I would never see you again….your eyes….your face."

"That will never happen, my love!", he said as he pulled her into his body, and harshly kissed her on the top of her hair.

"Never", he whispered.

**Aaawww. Aren't they just adorable? I haven't read a review in a few weeks (which is my fault because it took me forever and a day to update), but I really miss them!**


	15. Journey Home

Chapter Fifteen

**The story entitled Wandering Child belongs to dancechica. Thank you.**

**Ok, I've gotten rid of my two rants. The first one was just to explain to hold on for the next update. The second one came after I discovered my work had been stolen and passed off as someone else's. I obviously was extremely P.O.'ed about that. Anyways, here's an update! Enjoy!**

Christine felt both physically and mentally exhausted. Knowing that she was safe, finally back in the arms of her Angel, she allowed herself to release any scrape of strength she had left, and melted into Erik's arms. It was an enormous release to finally, after all that had been pulling them apart, know that she would never leave these arms again. All they wanted to do was hold and protect her. And that's all she asked for in return. She had finally left Raoul's side, confident she had made the right decision. A few weeks ago, she wasn't sure if she could ever live a life with out Raoul; but now she was certain.

Erik kneeled on the cold dirt ground with Christine cradled in his arms. He was quickly reminded of the similar position they had both assumed when inside her father's mausoleum. Suddenly, everything that had happened between Christine and himself since the carriage ride home on that fateful morning flashed before his eyes: Her utter reluctance towards him; her aggressiveness; the vision of her standing in the sheer robe; their lessons and talks. Their kiss. Every look, every touch, every note all seemed to be running back into Erik's mind.

Afraid to make her walk anymore, he stirred her and looked into her tear streaked eyes.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" he joked, as he wiped her tears away with his thumb. She let out a sigh of relief, and he thought he could sense her laughing under her breath.

"Come, my dear. Let me take you somewhere where no one may come between us or our love anymore."

He helped her rise to her feet and lead her to the horse. As he raised her onto the beast, he could hear her release a sigh under her breath. A sigh of contentment. He held the rains with his right hand and began to lead it away from the Vicomte's home. Not a word was spoken between them for several minutes. It seemed both of them wanted to savor the feeling of knowing their soul mate was finally at their side. It was a moment that would only be hindered by words. No sentence could describe the rich feeling they each shared. And so, they remained silent as the glided through the mists.

After a long while of deep thought, Christine began to notice they were not heading towards Paris. She remembered how long the carriage ride was, and it was certainly shorter than the path they were traveling presently.

"Erik," she question.

"Hmm?", she could tell she had snapped him out of a deep daze.

"Are we returning to the Opera House? If so, I fear we've gotten ourselves lost!"

"No. No, we would be returning to the Opera House. I have secured a home for us outside of Paris."

"Oh. Well what about Don Juan? What's to happen to it."

"It will be cancelled, at least until I deem it safe for you to return. The moment the Vicomte returns home and discovers you are no longer there, he will no doubt head for the Opera House. No, I've made other arrangements for us. All of my belongings are presently being taken to the new home."

"Who is moving your belongings? You certainly don't have servants!", she joked.

Erik turned to her and smiled, "You really don't believe the Vicomte is the only man with a few pennies in his pocket, do you?" He gave her a wink and turned to continue walking.

Christine was relieved to learn they wouldn't be going back to Paris. As much as she would initially miss performing and the company of Meg, she knew Erik was right. Raoul wouldn't waste a moment before returning to Paris to fetch her. No, she didn't need to worry about that. She was told stress was not a good sign in the condition she may be in. At first she didn't know for certain, but something wasn't normal in her body. Something was happening and she feared the worst. For three month's she hadn't gone through her womanly cycle. With each month that had gone by, she became more and more frightened. With the third month of nothing, she knew. She was pregnant with Raoul's child.

They had slept together the night after the premier of Il Muto. That one time! Before she knew the other side of Erik. When she was frightened and wanted anyone to hold her; when she loved Raoul. But now she didn't love the Vicomte, yet was carrying a part of him inside of her. She felt unclean and detested the thing growing in her belly. She gazed and the back of Erik, and thought of all the obstacles they had overcome to be together. Every force that could have pulled them apart, and yet here he was, by her side. But what would he do after she told him? Her eyes began to swell with tears. Would he leave her? How could he love her after he discovered what she had done. She knew how strongly she felt about her "virginity" and how precious it was to him. He wanted to be the only man to penetrate into her body, and now he would never have that chance. She already been touched, and that was something she could never take back. She cursed the name of the father of her child. Soon her nose began to run and she sobbed aloud.

Erik darted around. "Christine? My dear, what's the matter? What is it?" He rushed to her side and took her off the horse, holding her close to his body. "Don't tell me your disappointed at the move," he joked. "I promise, all of your belongings will be waiting for you at the house!", he chuckled.

Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing. Here was the man she betrayed in the worst possibly way and yet he could think of no one's comfort but hers. Clothes! He thought she was upset over clothes! She would live in a potato sack for the rest of her life if she knew he wouldn't leave her. Christine tried to compose herself.

"No, no. It isn't that. It's….um….Erik I need to talk to you. About us, about our future."

"Christine, I…..", Erik's heart began to race. Did she wish to leave him?

"Oh no Erik! It's nothing like that. You know I love you more than life itself. I just have to discuss something with you."

"Very well", answered Erik with a smile. "As soon as we arrive at the house, you'll have the floor, alright?"

"Thank you.", she whispered.

"Of course! Now dry your eyes." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and put it to her nose. "Blow your nose."

Christine, strangely unembarrassed by the situation blew, and Erik looked upon her with all the compassion she could ask for.

"All better?", he question. She nodded. "Good", he said, as he kissed her on the forehead. "Let's get going." Said Erik, raising her back on to the horse.

"I love you Erik.", Christine whispered.

"And I love you Christine.", he replied.

Erik began guiding the horse again, as Christine prayed that Erik could repeat those last words when she admitted her grave secret.

**Review please!**


	16. Bad Tidings

**Wandering Child belongs to dancechica**

**OMG She's updating so soon! Hehe…yes I am! Here ya go!**

Chapter Sixteen

After what seemed an unfathomable amount of walking, Christine finally saw a house come into shape in the distance after night fall. It was not a small one, but certainly smaller that Raoul's. It was a decent, two level home, made of deep red brick. Christine's stomach began to turn within her. She didn't want to step into the home. Once she did, she would be forced to crush the spirit of the only man she had ever loved. What's worse is Christine couldn't predict his reaction. Erik never had a cookie cutter personality. His emotions could swing from high to low in a heart beat.

"Here we are!", Erik announced with a grin. Christine forced herself to smile, even though she dreaded walking through the doors. But Erik helped her off the horse just as a stable boy ran out to join them. He couldn't have been more than twelve years old. Without speaking a word he took the horse from his Master and walked it to the stables, which Christine assumed were behind the house.

Erik walked her into the house and directed towards the stairs.

"If you go up the stairs and turn to your left, the third door on the right is the bedroom. There's a large closet where you'll find plenty of clothes. You probably want to wash up and change into a nightgown."

Christine, pleased that she could buy herself some more time, smiled and proceeded to climb the stairs. Once she reached the room she went to the closet and picked out the nightgown she loved to wear. It was white, made of silk. It clung to the top of her body, while at the bottom it was a very comfortable, relaxed fit. It had long sleeves with belled out at the elbow, embroidered with small pink flowers with yellow centers. She felt radiant in it, and slipped on the robe that was made to go with it.

After taking a few deep breaths, she left the room and nervously walked back down the stairs. Erik knew she had something to tell him, there was no use in prolonging it. The sooner she let it out, the sooner they could solve their problems. When she reached the bottom, she looked to her right and saw Erik standing in the sitting room, staring at the fire that blazed in the fireplace. Christine cleared her throat and he turned to face her.

Erik was immediately taken aback by her unsurpassable beauty. She indeed was his Angle. Her skin was as white as what she wore; her long, dark, curly, hair was pulled back on the sides. One tendril fell in front of her shoulder. He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have this raven in his presence for even a moment. She stood still, staring at him with her deep eyes. Something in them looked scared so he walked up to her and kissed her. At first her lips remained stagnant, but they quickly began to move in time with his. He could hear the murmur in the back of her throat. It was the sweetest sound he could wish to hear.

He sighed. "Are you ready to talk?"

She looked to the ground, then quickly looked up and said, "Yes", with a forced smile.

Erik walked and sat on the nearest couch and Christine followed. He raised his eyes, as a cue for Christine to begin talking. She stared back at him blankly, then realizing he wanted her to begin, she slowly nodded her head up and down as her eyes traveled towards the fire.

"Erik, I love you so much. There's no one else I want to spend every waking day with." Christine cleared her throat. "You….you know that…right?"

"Christine, of course I do. Darling, what could be so important that you have to tell me? I have to be honest; you're starting to scare me."

Christine drew a deep breath from her gut. Slowly she said, "The night after the Premier of Il Muto….Raoul and I…." Christine choked on her tears. She drew three deep breaths, recomposed herself, and tried to finish her story. "Raoul and I slept together, and I am pregnant with his child."

Erik's face remained blank. Christine looked down and saw his fist clutching the material of the couch, crushing it between his fingers. His breathing became heavy and his body slightly began to rock back and forth. Christine's hand moved to touch his. As soon as it did, he threw his hand up, forcing hers to fly in the air. He got up and walked to the fireplace, resting his head on the mantle.

"You've been….", Erik swallowed. "…..in bed with him?"

"Erik, I-"

"You're pregnant?", his voice began to raise. "But you're- you're not supposed to be. You're mine; his been _in_ you? You've been his? I can't believe this Christine!", his voice raising with every word.

"I'm sorry!", Christine put her head in her hands and rested them on her thighs. "So much has changed between now and then. I thought I loved Raoul. But now I know I didn't, because I never felt the same way I feel when I'm with you. Ever." Christine stood and walked towards Erik. His entire body seemed to be frantically shaking, as if he had so much angry energy, but nowhere to release it. She stood directly behind him, placing both hand on his shoulders, in an act of comfort.

When Erik felt her body come to brush with his, he didn't know how to react. Part of him wanted to slap her, for even daring to touch him. Another part told him to turn and hold her. He knew she was frightened of his reaction, yet she was brave enough to approach him. But ultimately he knew he couldn't allow himself to do either action. He whipped his body around, startling her as she removed her hands from his shoulders. He looked into her eyes, hoping to recognize that fire in them. Deeper and deeper he looked searching, praying he would find it. At times he though he caught a glimmer of it, but it would quickly be tarnished by the reminder of her betrayal. No. He did not know this girl. Or the girl he did love was buried profoundly beneath her soul. He couldn't look at her any longer; he didn't know what he would do. He looked around the room, breathing heavily, not being able to help his eyes fill with tears. He then left the house, slamming the door behind him, leaving Christine in tears on the sitting room floor.

Erik left the house in a panic, not knowing where to go. Suddenly the Opera House came back into his memory and he immediately had the urge to go to his real home. He ran to the stables and grabbed a horse, being sure not to take the same on he arrived with, as it was probably exhausted. He hopped on it and rode it swiftly towards Paris. As he rode all he could think about was Christine. The child barely even entered his mind. Christine had disobeyed him. He told her countless times not to go near the Vicomte. And not only had she gone near him, she had made love with him! Faster and faster he pushed the horse, to lead him to his refuge. After an hour of riding, he finally reached the House. Sneaking through the back entrance, he quickly made it into his lair. His organ remained in tact. It was the one thing he requested not be touched. He had a replacement one in the new home. But this organ belonged in the Opera House. It was there were it got its oxygen. He ran to it and began playing profusely. Hour after hour, he played. He played music of lust, music of betrayal, music of sadness, music of love, music of death. He played until each of his fingers was in an unimaginable deal of pain. But this was what he needed. He always knew music would be his one constant in his life. Before, he though there would be two: music and Christine. But now he wasn't sure.

After he felt he had derived every emotion he could into his music, he decided it was time to return back to the house. No matter how furious he was with Christine, he wouldn't allow himself to abandon her. He would just punish her the only way he deemed appropriate: with silence.

After another hour of riding back to the house, the sun began to rise. He timidly walked in, and saw to his right in the sitting room, Christine shivering on the floor, sleeping next to a burn out fire. He walked over to her, and slid his arms underneath her frail body. He lifted her off of the cold floor and carried her to the couch were he sat as he listened to her speak those awful words. He reached over the armchair next to it and pulled the blanket off that hung off the back. He wrapped it over her, making sure she was shielded from the cold. She began to stir.

"Erik?", she whispered softly. "…you're…you're back?"

Erik made sure not to make eye contact with her or show any sign of emotion on his face as he continued to tuck in the blanket. He could see her face out of the corner of his eye, waiting for a response, but he promised himself he would give none. As soon as he was certain she was comfortable he rose and left the room, once again leaving Christine heartbroken.

**Oh boy. Review please!**


	17. Breakfast

**Chapter Seventeen **

**I'm sorry, I know it's taken forever for me to update, and I won't bore you with the details as to why it's taken me this long. For having a very boring life, I sure do have a lot of stuff going on! Anyways, here's a short chapter, not a lot of action happens, just a lot of character analysis. Enjoy!**

The following morning, Christine awoke on the sofa, and as soon as she opened her tired eyes, the events of the night before flashed before her. She couldn't believe this had happened to her, to them. How could she bear the child of a man who was not the man she loved? Would it be possible for Erik to love the child as if it had been created from his own being? Christine didn't know how Erik could ever forgive her. Her virginity was something sacred in his eyes. And now that it was gone, he could never be the one to claim it.

Christine tried to collect her emotions and rose off the couch. She walked to the French doors, and opened them, to look across the foyer into the dining room. She timidly walked into it, praying Erik won't be there. Unfortunately as she turned the corner, she saw him sitting in the chair and the end of the table, with his back to her. She felt a sudden urge to leave and silently run up the stairs unnoticed. But she couldn't allow herself to do that. She knew she couldn't spend the rest of her days avoiding Erik. They would have to resolve they're issues somehow, and avoidance of each other wouldn't further the resolution.

An assortment of breakfast foods, including exotic fruits and varied croissants, were laid out on the mahogany table. There was no indication as to where she should sit, no place set for her, no glass of juice, silverware, or plate. Once again, she got a sudden inclination to sit at the opposite end of the table. But she reminded herself of the importance to solve they're problems, so she held her breath as she stepped to the chair to the left of Erik. She could see him glaring at her out of the corner of her eyes. What was he thinking? Was he pleased that she had chosen to sit by his side? Or disgusted? She forced herself to smile, and pretend that nothing had happened the night before; that everything was the same as it had always been. She loved him, and he loved her. Nothing more, nothing less. But the look he gave back with his eyes did not convey the same message. The glare he gave her was of utter disgust and repulsiveness. He looked at her as if she were a dog who had taken it upon itself to sit on the golden laced furniture. He looked at her, then to the end of the table, repeatedly, gesturing that her proper place was at the opposite end of the table. She was astonished at his reaction; was he really reacting this way? She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly raised his hand, motioning her not to speak. Embarrassed, Christine stood and walked to the other end of the table. The maid, Martha, brought her a tray of food, including a bowl of steaming cereal, topped with freshly cut strawberries and blueberries, two pieces of toast topped with orange marmalade, half grapefruit, and a tall glass of orange juice. Erik had no doubt informed the staff of her condition. "At least he isn't planning on starving me to death.", she thought.

Erik had not been able to sleep at all that night. After he had arrived home from the opera, he remained in his room, pacing back and forth. He couldn't count the number of times he craved to rush down the stairs, swing open the doors to the sitting room where Christine lay, wake her, kiss her body, hold her, tell her everything was alright and forgiven. But as soon as his hand touched the doorknob, the disturbing picture of Christine and the Vicomte, starring into each other's eyes as they made love to one another, slipped into his mind; their bodies moving as one in complete euphoria. No, that image was enough to keep himself locked away forever. Finally, the sun began to shine through the window, so he took that as his cue to dress, and he headed down for breakfast. As he reached the bottom of the staircase, he looked to his left and saw Christine curled on the couch. Without thinking, he turned the doorknob and stepped into the room. The fire had died out, so he placed another log in it. He then walked over to Christine. Her face was melancholy, lonely, yet still maintained a sweet innocence. He knelt down so he was level with her face. He hovered his hand above her head, hesitating about whether he dare touch her. He couldn't resist, and his hand timidly, and ever so lightly caressed her curls. They traveled to her face, and slowly brushed her lips. Erik felt as if he were having an out-of-body experience. No matter what images raced through his mind as the night dragged on, in its unending torment, nothing could compare to the melodious sound of her shallow breath, or the sugar sweet smell from her skin. Tear's welled up in Erik's eyes, and glided down his checks.

Once Erik finally collected himself, he realized he had been crying. Crying! After everything she did to betray him, he still cried merely at the sight of her exquisite beauty. He quickly left the room, not wanting Christine to awake and see him adoring her. He gently closed the doors, and stepped into dining room. Martha was laying everything on the table, as she was instructed to do.

"Martha, my wife is…" Erik's voice trailed off. It hurt him even more to say it aloud, if that were possible. "Christine is going to have a child." Erik cleared his throat.

"I would prefer it if you prepared her meals separately, so she is sure to eat healthy and nurturing meals for her and our—" Erik couldn't believe he almost said our child. It was not his, and never would be. How could he ever think of something coming from the Vicomte, as belonging to himself?

"…for her and the…baby." Martha nodded and left to prepare Christine's breakfast. Erik took a seat at the end of the table, and helped himself to a cup of coffee. He heard a rustling from behind, and he knew it was Christine. He didn't flinch, and pretended not to hear her. He knew she was deciphering the proper place for her to sit. He prayed she would sit at the other end. He was afraid what he may do if she were to close to him. When he was near her, he often found it impossible to resist from touching, caressing and kissing her. To his dismay, she gracefully took a seat to his left, as if they had not a care in the world. What was she doing? His hand began to tremble; he was physically getting sick from staring at her and not being able to hold her. She needed to move. Now. He tried his best to gesture for her to move, while grasping his hands together, out of sight under the table. She looked utterly shocked and embarrassed. He could tell she was about to say something, and involuntarily, his hand shot up from the shot of passion that raced through his blood when he heard her voice. She backed away, and slowly stood and walked to the other end of the table. After he was sure she had been given her breakfast, be quickly arose and left the room, tears streaming from his face, unbeknownst to her.


	18. Games of make believe

**Here's some presents. BTW, I'm listening to the Original Canadian Cast of Phantom right now, with Colm Wilkonson and Rebecca Caine. It is PHEONMENAL! Rebecca's "Think of Me" is out of this world. If you have yet to hear this version, you really don't know what you're missing! It is a MUST HAVE for any phan!**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Erik heaved out a deep breath from the inner corners of his lungs. It wasn't a sigh he let out, just a deep breath, as if he were trying to cleanse himself of their foolishness. It had been days, weeks, since he and Christine had last spoken to one another. She spent most of her time in the library, reading. But he could tell by the distant look in her eyes, that her mind was somewhere else. Meanwhile, her belly began to grow, and it was finally cemented into Erik's mind that this wasn't a dream. It wasn't something that would pass with time, or loose its luster over the years. It was forever going to be a burden on him. Sometimes Erik wondered why Christine never even tried to speak with him. Was she afraid of what his reaction maybe? Was she just as angry with him as he with her? Or, did she just plain not have anything to say?

He poured himself a glass of wine, and brought it with him as he sat at the grand piano in the foyer of the house. Christine was just in the room adjoining to the foyer. Perhaps if he played for her, she would join him? He had wanted to speak with her for such a long time, but he couldn't come up with the proper phrasing to go about it. His tongue simply dried up like the desert and his throat would tighten. But with music, with lyrics, he could say anything he wanted to.

Sitting open on the stand was the score of Don Juan. The Opera House had either tossed his life's masterpiece aside, and moved on to some other gaudy monstrosity; or even worse, had dared perform it without Christine in the lead. He opened up the book to the end, the climax scene between Amnita, and her suitor, Don Juan. He noticed how loud the paper sounded in the quiet house, with high ceilings. He quickly froze, and listened intently to the deafly silence. From the library he heard Christine clear her throat, and then proceed to turn the page of her current book. His hands began to shake, but he was headstrong.

"_You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge; In pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent."_

Erik closed his eyes as he continued, and each lyric swept over him as if he had never uttered it or heard it before, even though he and Christine had rehearsed it dozens of times. Ever so gently, his fingers grazed the piano keys, with each stroke filling his body with a shock of pleasure.

"_Past, the point of no return. No backward glances, our games of make believe are at an end."_

As he sang the words, Erik suddenly realized how much he could related the lyrics to the circumstances that now plagued him and Christine. Games. It always seemed to be games with one another. Who could ignore each other the longest. Who could go the longest with out touching the other? Be in the end, it was all just postponing what both of them lived for; the passion they felt for each other. All just a big game.

"…_.We've past the point of no return."_

Erik kept his eyes shut, savoring the moment of the sweet bliss the notes of music gave him. He didn't know how long he sat in that position, but he feared opening his eyes, and seeing that the world was just as it was.

"_You have brought me…"_

He heard, coming from the library. Was it his imagination, or had she really responded back to him? She sang so softly, it was difficult to tell.

"…_into silence, silence."_

Her voice grew quieter and quieter. Suddenly, she belted from her chest:

"_I have come here! Hardly knowing the reason why. In my mind, I've already imagined, our bodies entwining…"_

Erik's breath caught in his throat when she sang those words. _Bodies entwining_. His eyes relaxed open, but still he saw the room was empty. Then, from the library she emerged, singing in her glorious voice that made the angels weep.

Finally, they sang as one, in the final verse that had a new meaning; a meaning of moving forward, of solving problems, not dwelling on them.

"_The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn. We've past the point of no return."_

As they finished the song, Christine made her way towards him; her head tilt downward, with her eyes glaring up to his. She finally reached him, standing right next to him, their eyes meeting with an intensity they had never felt between them before. Erik could no longer resist what he had been tempted with for weeks without being able to have. He shot out of his seat, kissing her before he had fully stood, pushing up into her mouth. She responded with the same vivacity, reciprocating with equal strength. Erik's hands traveled, from her hair, to her cheek, to her jaw line, to her heaving chest. His hands lingered there for a moment, noticing her breast had swelled due to her pregnancy. After taking in the change, they continued to travel down to her stomach. It was getting so large, it was forcing him to keep a distance from her that he did not desire. Suddenly, he felt a hard jolt of pressure against his hand. The baby had kicked.

A flash of memories came rushing back into his mind. He tried to stop them. They would only ruin what he had now with Christine. But like tidal wave they came, and he couldn't resist falling to the almighty power they had over him.

He stopped kissing her, and looked into her eyes. They were filled with hope that all had been forgotten, and they could start anew. She leaned up to him, trying to kiss him once more. But he moved his face to the left. He couldn't do it. No matter how many times he told himself what a fool he was, a fool not to be able to ignore the thing growing inside Christine. Why couldn't he just accept it, so he could just have Christine? Wasn't that all he really wanted in the end? But still, he just could not.

Disheartened, Christine glumly walked away, as if the past few minutes had only been a figment of her imagination. Erik stood by the piano's side, staring at the marble floor, lost in a daze of his own self hatred.

Martha appeared from out of the kitchen with a white envelope in her hand.

"A letter for Miss. Daae, sir."

Erik gestured towards the library, and Martha quickly entered and exited, leaving the note with Christine.

"You idiot! You just had her, in your arms, kissing you! Holding you! SINGING for you!", Erik's mind raced with all these thoughts. How could he be this stubborn? He couldn't allow things to slump back into the pattern they had practiced the past few weeks. He gathered his courage to walk into the library, and talk with Christine, and tell her that he would love her until the day he died, no matter what physical actions his body made. _Talk_.

"There's a novel idea.", he thought.

He turned the corner into the library, only to be shocked with the sight of Christine's body lying limp on the Oriental rug. Her head was rolled to the side, with her chestnut curls covering the beauty of her face.

"Christine!", he shrieked. "Oh my Lord, Christine?"

He rolled her over, and brushed the hair from her face. Her eyes were shut.

"Christine! Christine!" , Erik didn't know what to do, but shout her name. His mind was in a state of panic.

He saw, laying on the rug the letter she had just received. His hands shaking with fear, opened the enveloped, and read the contents of the letter:

March 15, 1870

Miss. Daae,

It is my sad duty to inform you that, Raoul, Vicomte de Changy, passed away last night, March 14. His cause of death is not yet known, but it is believed to be of natural causes.

Regards,

Captain De Lancrque


	19. Your Eyes

**So basically I suck and leave stories 9 months with out updating. My excuse: I lost interest. Sad but true. But now I feel I have regained the will I had when I started this thing (a year ago….). Anyways, here's a new chapter. It's fairly short, but I like it. Enjoy!**

Tossing the note aside, he gathered Christine, safely cradling her in his arms. He carefully took her out of the room and up the stairs to the master bedroom. He placed her on the bed and in a state of panic started to violently shake her. He felt if he had jolted her enough, she would awake. But with no response from each shake, he grew more and more anxious. Running to the door he called for Martha. After what seemed hours, she finally appeared from the kitchen. Erik told her to leave immediately and send for a doctor. Martha obeyed and left within minutes. Turning back into the room, Erik stared at Christine's seemingly lifeless body on the bed. He paced back and forth between the bed and the door, determining if he could help her. Finally he came to the conclusion that he was the only one who could ever care for her. He fumbled through the dresser he had filled for her with fine gowns and undergarments. He found and took a cream silken night gown, trimmed with lace along the collar and sleeves. He carefully undid all the hooks of her dress and corset, always being careful to handle her gently as to not hurt her or her child. After dressing her, he turned her around and placed her in the bed, covering her with the down comforter. After he was sure she was safe, he left momentarily to fetch a cold clothe for her head.

Erik had stayed by Christine's bedside for two days. At times he would sleep next to her, kneel beside her, or sit on the leather armchair he pulled up beside the bed. He had called a doctor immediately after she fainted, but he could only explain the incident as a consequence of her pregnancy and perhaps the shock of the news she had just received. The doctor assured Erik that the condition wouldn't last long and left medicine for him to give her when she awoke. But that had been more that 44 hours ago, and he was getting more concerned with every minute that passed. At times she would stir, raising his hopes she was awaking, but then would fall back into her deep sleep.

_Raoul brushed Christine's hair from her face. In his palm he cupped her check tenderly. He whispered to her he was in love with her. Quickly they made plans to leave Paris forever, and all its memories it held with it. They would stay with each other forever, sharing a life of love and kindness. That night they made love to each other for the first time, and in that moment created a child. A child that was conceived from love…or at least what Christine once thought was love._

Christine stirred, feeling her body being brought back to life. Her legs and arms were stiff and felt as if they pulled her down into the mattress. Slowly her eyes began to open, and all she could make out was a round figure, half white, half flesh. Christine knew it was Erik. After all she had done to him and put him through, there was her Angel, watching over her. She heard him talk, yet couldn't make out a word he spoke. It sounded as if she was underwater and his was talking from the surface. Focusing on his face her vision began to clear and her hearing fell into place. But her body still remained at a stand still. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Erik soothed her, encouraging her not to try to talk. He didn't say anything to her. Not a word. Looking into each other's eyes was all the communication they needed. They were together, and together they would stay.


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue

Day by day, Christine stayed in bed, as ordered by the doctor. And day by day Erik would sit at her side, to assist her, keep her company, or just watch her sleep. And day by day, her stomach grew wider and wider. Erik had finally come to terms with her pregnancy. With the fact she did sleep with Raoul. And with the fact the baby was not his. But somehow, during those hours when he had almost lost Christine forever, everything took a new perspective. Christine was alive and they were together. He had to take what he was given and use it to his advantage. And so, day after day they waited together, until one day Christine gave birth to a daughter, Renee. Erik held her in his arms, with all the care and tenderness he didn't even know he had. And as he stared into her eyes, he saw a glimmer of an ingénue.


End file.
